FOXHOUND: The Story of John Doe
by Wogle
Summary: After a microfilm is stolen in Soviet territory, FOXHOUND recruit John Doe is sent in to retrieve it. But what signifance does the microfilm have, and why are the Americans as interested in it as the Soviets? Originally conceived as a machinima project.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: This story has no official connection to the Metal Gear series. The Metal Gear series and everything relating is copyright to Konami, Kojima Productions and all other affiliated companies associated with Metal Gear.

**From the Author:**

This is my second ever submission to The first was **Death of the Apprentice**, which was one that followed Robin and his relationship with Slade, as well as a relationship between Robin and Raven. Although I finished quite a bit of it, I unfortunately did not continue posting any more because I had a lack of time to work on it. One day I will finish it.

**FOXHOUND: The Story of John Doe** has had a long writing history (which I'll try to explain very briefly). Originally starting as a fan film with a different story, but similar characters, the project fell down the plug hole after produciton difficulties. This one was originally part of a trilogy of fan fictions set in the Metal Gear universe that I was planning to write, but I never got past concepts in the other two projects. I revived The John Doe story after watching "**The FOX Chronicles**", and wanting to do a serious story-driven machinima that wasn't a blatant Red vs Blue rip-off, as so many are these days. It gave birth to a new version of the story, the setting-chapter you are reading today.

Please, enjoy. If I get enough positive feedback, it will make the transition into a radioplay and finally a machinima (which has about 20 percent of the script complete).

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"After the end of World War Two,  
The world was split into two -- East and West.  
This marked the beginning of the era called the Cold War."

* * *

**Prologue**

15:50 June 18th, 1976

"How long left?"  
"10 minutes."  
"Thank god for that."

Sergei hated sentry duty as much as the next soldier. Standing on guard and staring at the same bits of jungle for hours on end could almost drive a man to madness. As much as he didn't mind talking to Mikhail, topics of conversation were beginning to slim down. There were only so many times you could take about women, vodka, and communism vs. capitalism, before it started to repeat itself. Still, it was only ten minutes until he could sit inside the hut and get some rest. If Sergei had to be honest with himself, the only reason that he was there was because he needed the money. The guarding of classified documents was a surprisingly profitable path to take, but just like being a bodyguard there was plenty of sitting around or doing nothing.

And of all the places to store it, why choose this abandoned hut? If there was anywhere that something this important should be housed, it was the storage vault underneath the Moscow Kremlin building. Instead, the leaders decided that the best place to keep it would be some abandoned hut in the middle of an unknown jungle. True, it was a fairly large hut and perimeter defence wasn't too much of a problem, but it was easily falling apart. It must've been built during the Second World War at least, and that was over 30 years ago. The object they were guarding didn't seem that important either. It was only small, and it would probably be impossible to make out what was on it without some sort of magnifying device.

A rustling in the bushes caught Sergei's attention, and he slowly looked over to the source of the noise. He squinted at the location. Was he seeing things, or was there a person there?

"Great. I'm finally starting to see things… Oh well."

He sighed to himself and nudged Mikhail, who was now sleeping and snoring.

"Hey!" He whispered harshly. "Wake up!"

Mikhail snorted and jerked his head up instantly. He looked around for a few moments with a confused expression, attempting to regain his surroundings, before finally realising it was Sergei talking to him.

"Oh, it's you." Mikhail had a note of odd disappointment in his voice. "What is it?"  
"Something moved in those bushes over there."  
"So? We're in the jungle! Everything moves out here."  
"Yeah, but I think I can see someone in the bushes."

Mikhail glanced quickly over to the area Sergei was pointing at, but could see nothing but grass, mud and rocks; things we was hoping to leave behind in about 5 minutes.

"Look, I can't see anything."  
"So go check it out!"  
"Why? Why don't you go check it out? You're the one that's bothered by it."  
"Yeah, but I'm delegating you because you fell asleep!"  
"Ugh, fine. If it'll shut you up."

Mikhail picked up his AKM and marched over to the bushes, knowing that he wasn't going to find anything there.

"Look Sergei, there's not going to-"

Mikhail's words were cut off as a bullet exited through his left eye, taking portions of his brain with it. With a loud, but short scream his body slumped instantly to the ground, as the rifle's report echoed through the trees. Sergei dived onto the ground and emptied an entire magazine at the bushes. Within seconds, three other soldiers rushed outside.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded one of the soldiers. He was never to find out however, as another well-aimed shot instantly dropped him to the ground. The other two soldiers ran to either side of Sergei and dropped to the ground. As soon as they hit the ground, a barrage of gunfire opened up on them.

"Sergei, what the HELL is going on out here?!"  
"I don't know! ENEMY, JUST RIGHT OF THE MOUND!"

Sergei had spotted one of the attackers getting up from his prone position and diving to the large mound of earth and trees that was directly in front of them.

"Shit!" He cursed. "OPEN FIRE!"

Sergei and one of the other guys opened fire upon the one confirmed enemy, despite bullets coming from what seemed to be and every direction. The man to his right got up and ran back to take up his position on the mounted machinegun. He screamed loudly, before spraying the entire tree line with hot lead. It didn't last, as the sniper from before had taken his third killed.

"Shit, pull back to the hut!" Ordered Sergei.

Bullets flew through the air whizzing and snapping past the heads of both soldiers as they charged into the hut. Sergei smashed through the window and the other guy diving in through the doorway. Both lay prone, hoping that the bullets ripping through the wood would not land on them.

The gunfire died down slightly, but it still came at them forcing them to keep their heads down. However, footsteps across the wooden walkway around the hut were soon to be heard, and moments later a grenade lay in front of both Sergei and the other soldier. With only a split second, both dived outside. Sergei landed hard on wooden planks escaping the blast, but his partner was unable to move in forcing his face to experience the explosion.

Sergei breathed heavily and quickly got to one knee, only to come face to face with a handgun. He looked up and saw a tall, imposing figure dressed exactly like him – like an old KGB jungle warfare troop.

"Who… Who are you?" He asked weakly.

The answer to Sergei's question was a gunshot to the forehead. The four-man team proceeded to split up in to pairs. One pair guarded the front of the hut from any other hostiles, and the other two masked men proceeded to scour the hut for the reason they were there.

"I found it," a soldier shouted from the back room.

His partner, who happened to be the commander of the squad, joined him and checked the object that he had found in the back room. It was a small microfilm. It didn't seem to be of any significance, but the commander of the squad seemed to be delighted.

"Excellent. We just need to take it back to Krait. Come on, let's move."

Within a few moments, they were gone. The only trace that they had ever been there were the numerous corpses that littered the ground.

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Feedback would be nice please. The main characters will appear next chapter, I promise. 


	2. Chapter 1: The Entry Point

And it's been a long time hasn't it?

The main problems has been tryign to get this chapter written. The rest of the story is fine, it's just trying to get down on paper what I've already got in script form and make it interesting. Oh well, please read on.

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**Chapter 1: Entry Point**

11:30 June 30th, 1976

A warm, light breeze blew across the Russian mountaintop. At that height and altitude, the air was generally chilly, so this rare warm breeze helped the patrolling sentries feel a little more comfortable.

Five in total, they wore some basic body armour, had their nose and mouth covered by some sort of cloth, and wore plain olive smocks with hoods covering their head. All of them were on lookout for any sort of threat or intrusion attempt. According to their sources, this would be the best place for any sort of insertion into the area – all other routes were designated as too treacherous or too long to be worth traversing. If people were trying to get to the base camp, it would definitely be through here.

One of the guards stared over the cliff edge into the trenches below, which zigzagged all the way down the mountaintop down towards a single tunnel. Beyond the tunnel, the mountain barren mountain path led into a thick jungle, which one could easily get lost in. He sighed, retracing the same patrol route that he had been walking for the last hour.

"I wish I could get some sleep", he moaned in Russian.

Barely two seconds after he said it, his body landed with a soft thud onto the ground, asleep. From the shadows, a man wearing a black balaclava and GRU woodland BDU emerged, and holding an MK22 handgun, that had been modified to fire tranquilliser darts. He walked over to the body, took the AKM that he was carrying and searched it for any other useful equipment.

"Wish granted", he said smugly. If the guard was awake, he might have worked out that the guy was British.

The rest of the guards were just as bored, so the figure had no problems slipping past the rest of them, although making it through the trenches was still quite a difficult task. Upon reaching the tunnel entrance he slipped behind a nearby rock and flicked a switch on his chest, near a radio.

"Zero, this is HOUND. I've made it to the tunnel entrance, Over." His voice was low, so as to avoid detection. He didn't want to have wasted all that effort now.

An American voice replied.

"Excellent John. Glad to hear you made it safely."  
"Major, what's the point of codenames if you're not going to use them?" John seemed a little irritated.  
"Oh, I don't think it'll matter too much. Besides, I doubt anyone is going to believe what your name is."  
"John Doe? Yeah, real exciting name. So what am I expecting beyond here Natalie?"

A soft female voice replaced the previous American one.

"About three more four man patrols. There's one just beyond the tunnel exit, and two more a bit further down the mountainside."  
"Thanks. That should be no problem."

The Major came on once more.

"Remember what we said in the briefing John. Try and get to the jungle without confrontation. It'll make the rest of the mission much harder if you set off the alarm too early."  
"Understood sir. HOUND, Out."

He tightened the sling for the AKM and proceeded into the tunnel, remembering the briefing which occurred not too long ago…

"How're we feeling today John?"  
"Uh-Oh..."  
"What do you mean, 'Uh-Oh'?"  
"Every time you use that 'How're we feeling today...' question, it means that the shit's really hit the fan. Am I right Major?"

Major Kyle Braxton and FOXHOUND commando John Doe were walking towards a briefing room at the CIA headquarters in Langley. John had just been through an anti-terrorist training scenario and was still pumped up and ready to go.

"Unfortunately you're right John. Something quite serious has occurred, and once again FOXHOUND are the ones who have to clean up the whole mess."  
"Hey, it's what we're here for right?"

Major Braxton knew that John was just joking around with him. Usually it would be him saying that to the other commandos.

"Yeah, that's right."

They finally reached door with the number sixty-nine on it. John turned his head to face Braxton and raised an eyebrow. Braxton caught his glance, and sighed shaking head.

"You suggesting something, sir?" John joked.  
Major Braxton rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.  
"Just get your ass inside John."

John opened the door and to reveal a small room, with a circular table in the middle. A slide projector was set up to one side of the table facing the wall opposite the door, and three chairs were placed around it as if it was put together very last minute. In the chair to the right of the projector, sat someone who John assumed was the technician. John sat in a chair just to the left of the projector, and Braxton stood against the wall.

"Isn't this a little low profile, especially compared to our normal briefings?" asked John.  
"I suppose, but there's good reason for the last minute throw-together."

Braxton nodded his head, and the technician turned off the room's lights and flicked on the projector, projecting a large white rectangle on the wall. He flicked another switched and an image of what appeared to be a map of the U.S.S.R. was projected onto the wall.

"Ok John, here's the situation. Approximately 36 hours ago, a microfilm containing vital information was stolen from a KGB safe house, by a splinter faction of the KGB, somewhere in the Western-Russian area of the U.S.S.R. No one knows the reason behind it or much about the group that committed the crime, other than they are made up of both ex-KGB soldiers and numerous defectors from the West."

Braxton looked towards John, and for the first time in the entire briefing, was talking directly at him.

"Your mission will be to retrieve the Microfilm by any means necessary."

Lights came back on and Braxton moved directly to where the projector was aimed.

"Any questions?"  
"Just two. What's the weapons and equipment status?"  
"You'll be given the usual stuff, except this time you're going in with a tranquilliser weapon. However, as usual all weapons and equipment are OSP."  
"And backup."  
"None."  
"What?!" John's voice was filled with shock. "Not even a rescue party?"  
"Like I said John. This mission has to be completed ASAP. There's not time for anything else."

There was a dead silence. John knew that no backup meant that he would be on his own out there. Without any backup, and with no rescue if he was ever caught, he was screwed. Unfortunately fo rhim, it didn't seem like he had much choice in the matter.

"Alright then, best get on with the planning…"

Once John hit the jungle, he noticed that enemy troop movement had near enough disappeared. He assumed that the vast jungle was simply too big to have squads patrolling the jungle, and increased his pace to reach the warehouse destination. There, he expected to meets some tough resistance, and began to prepare himself for a potential firefight. Of course he was hoping that perhaps he might be able to sneak past the enemies, but it would certainly prove to be difficult if there was only one entrance into the warehouse.

Moving through jungle environments is always hard, and it was no exception here for John. Once or twice he lost his bearings and had to backtrack to where he though he'd made wrong turnings. After approximately half an hour of trekking though the jungle, John finally caught a glimpse of the warehouse. Getting as close as possible, within the brush, towards the entrance he knelt down and pulled out his binoculars and looked around. Quickly surveying the area, John could see no enemies, no traps and no obstacles. Suspicion soon crept into his mind, and he once again scanned the area for any sort of enemy movement. Once again, he found nothing. He hit the button on his radio.

"Major, I've checked the entrance to the warehouse and it's unguarded. It seems a little suspicious to guard an abandoned mountaintop base, but not a warehouse that's in use, doesn't it?"

"I'm going to have to agree with John on this one sir." Natalie had a hint of concern in her voice. "So far as I can make out, there are only sentries posted up on the mountain top, and about two miles the other side of the warehouse. There are no other soldiers within a two mile radius of the warehouse vicinity."

Braxton looked up at the ceiling from his position in front of the transmission equipment and sighed. John was knelt down in the grass awaiting further instruction, but becoming increasingly impatient.

"Look, I'm going to go on ahead unless anyone can give me a suitable reason not to advance. "  
"Alright then." Braxton looked back at the communications equipment that was in front of him. "But just be a bit more vigilant, ok?"

Satisfied that he wouldn't be attacked, but still slightly suspicious of the fact that no one was around, John made his way towards the entrance of the warehouse and crept inside.

* * *

Hope you look forward to chapter 2. There's actually some fighting! Still, I can't wait until I get Chapter 4 on here. It's personally my favourite chapter, as it has my favourite created character in it. 


	3. Chapter 2: A World Aflame

Well the story's coming along now. Just gotta sort out a couple more chapters, then whole thing is complete. Until then, enjoy chapter 2.

Please R&R people. I want peoples' reactions to the story. Otherwise, I wont know whether I should make it into a machinima or not.

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**Chapter 2: A World Aflame**

An echo with no source was all that John could hear when he entered the warehouse. There were no sentries or guard animals. Just an empty warehouse, if you could call it that. Walkways connected large pillars, each creating large corridors, with other corridors leading off from each other. It was an odd looking lace, but John had no time for curiosity and to determine what the place was used for; he had a mission to complete.

Slowly moving in, he did not notice a figure in the shadows. Dressed in some sort of Battle-Dress uniform, he simply stared at the unknowing John Doe from the shadows, and tightened the grip on his weapon, which was connected to equipment on his back. He watched as John reached the corner of a pillar and knelt down behind it.

"Major, I made it inside the warehouse."  
"Excellent. You're making good time. The Pillbox is just beyond the jungle on the other side of this warehouse. Get to the outer door and move through the rest of the jungle."  
"Roger. I'm moving out now."

John began to stand up. No sooner was he upright, when a jet of flame rushed down the corridor, missing his back by mere inches. John dived around the corner of the pillar into safety, or so he thought. A couple of clunks told him that a grenade had landed near him. He turned to his left and saw it immediately rushing back round the wall where he originally started. A large explosion, was followed a shower of flames that danced along the walls and covered the entire floor of the corridor for a few seconds before burning out.

"What the hell was that?" John panted. He could hear his blood thumping rapidly in his ears, and felt himself gasping for air as if he had just been moments away from drowning.

"A White Phosphorus grenade."

A chilling, American voice echoed against the walls of the warehouse. John couldn't work out where its source was.

"So they sent someone to retrieve it after all! My, my, I'm impressed. I never thought that the Russians would be so desperate as to request for Western help."

John pulled out his M1911 and popped out from round the wall that he was hiding behind. Aiming his pistol down the corridor, he could hear the weighted footsteps of his attacked moving into view. A KGB soldier armed with a flamethrower walked slowly into the view of John Doe. He was on the opposite end of this, "corridor" in another corridor facing right of John's view. The soldier stopped once he reached the middle and stood still for a few moments. A thick tension filled the air whilst nothing happened. The KGB soldier turned his head sharply to the right to face John.

John knew that the Russians did have some troops armed with flamethrowers, but they usually wore a different uniform so as to protect themselves from the heat. This guy was just wearing normal battle fatigues.

"Identify yourself!" John ordered finally.  
"Oh! British!" The soldier seemed quite amused. "Well, well, well. I never thought the British Secret Service would be sending their agents in to take us on. Who do you think you are, James Bond?"

John gave a small grimace behind his balaclava.

"Thanks for the compliment, but unfortunately, it's close but no Cuban. I'm employed by the yanks."  
"Ahh, well… I guess it doesn't matter anyway. You're going to have to get through me first."  
"I'd love to, but isn't it rude to not introduce yourself?"  
"Hahaha. I like you. Very well then, you can call me 'Flare Commando'."  
"Flare Commando?"

"That's right. I am one of the few soldiers left in the world who understand the beauty and art of the flamethrower. It is not simply a weapon that spurts fire and burns the surroundings you know. The flamethrower is a deadly force, capable of incapacitating enemies without killing them. The pain of burning is something of an art form to men like me."

John scowled in disgust.

"Hmph. You are nothing but a pyromaniac with a penchant for sadism."  
"Hahahaha. I knew that you wouldn't understand, Mr…"  
"HOUND."  
"Ahh, a codename. Very well, Mr… HOUND."

Flare Commando pulled out a grenade similar looking to the one that had almost killed John moments before. John kept his pistol aimed at Flare Commando, but was certainly starting to worry.

"Do you know what the biggest difference is between the effects of white phosphorus grenade, red phosphorus?"

John remained silent.

"Well… The biggest difference my friend is the fact that red phosphorus can burn when wet. It's quite painful for the victim when if the person treating them doesn't realise it. Sometimes, it can take a while for people to realise the difference."  
"You're sick."  
"No. I'm just adapting to war."

John remained silent. He didn't like the conversation one bit, but hesitated to shoot, just in case he missed and hi the tank on the back of Flare Commando. Although FOXHOUND members had to be extremely proficient with all forms of weapons, he dared not risk the shot at twenty metres. The tone of Flare Commando suddenly changed.

"Well then Mr. HOUND, did you know that roasted dog is quite popular in Korea and China? LET ME SHOW YOU!"

A jet of flame shot towards John, giving him mere seconds to duck back behind the wall. The fire singed his uniform, but he thankfully avoided the full wrath of the flame jet. Immediately, he hit the transmission button on his radio.

"Major, do you read me?" John growled down the radio.  
"I'm here. What's wrong?"  
"I found out the reason that there aren't any sentries. They got some pyromaniac with a flamethrower and Phosphorus Grenades guarding the inside of the warehouse."  
"Must be Flare Commando." Jacobsen had been listening in.  
"You know this guy?" John was suddenly interested in what Jacobsen had to say. It was difficult for John to concentrate however, as he was unsure of where Flare Commando would appear next.

"Well I know OF him. He was the leader of the Russian GRU flame units. I don't really know much about him, but reports say he and his team were disbanded a few years ago after the issues regarding flame and chemical warfare in Vietnam. The Russians didn't want the same thing that happened in the US to happen in streets of Moscow. Of course the group was top-secret so there wasn't any problem for backlash, except from the soldiers themselves."

A jet of flame just missed John as it shot down the corridor and passed where he was hiding. He dived over to the next column and flattened himself against the wall, trying to avoid the view of Flare Commando.

"Ok, thanks for the info Jacobsen."  
"Just remember, don't hit the tank on his back. The tiniest spark could set off a huge explosion that could take out that entire building."  
"Yeah just like I thought. Guess I'm gonna have to get a bit closer."

It was a game of cat and mouse for both. John Doe was trying to get to Flare Commando without alerting him, and Flare Commando was simply hunting down John Doe. As the battle drew on, John began to become more and more tired. He wasn't going to be able to dodge the flames for much longer, let alone sneak u on the guy. How could he get close to him?

A cardboard box was lying in the corner of the warehouse. John stared at it for a few moments, contemplating his decision. Should he? If Flare Commando let of a blast of flame, John would be screwed. Then again, if it worked… He'd made his decision.

"WHERE ARE YOU?"

Flare Commando's voice boomed and echoed around the walls of the abandoned warehouse. He trudged along the corridors, becoming more and more infuriated at losing track of this 'HOUND' agent. He passed a cardboard box and realised he'd gone in a circle without finding him.

"Show yourself coward!" He roared with fury.  
"Guess who?"

Flare Commando turned around. John Doe was a mere 5 metres away.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna miss."

He double-tapped straight at the chest. Flare Commando hid the ground with a loud thud, the flame unit pack crunching under his weight. He wasn't dead, but he was certainly dying. An expression of confusion and shock appeared on his face behind the covering. John Doe slowly moved towards him, and through blurry eyes Flare Commando stared back.

"I… I must know the name of the person who has defeated me."  
"It's John. John Doe. That's my real name."

Flare Commando roared with laughter, as if finally realising the punch line to a sick joke.

"I see… Killed by an insignificant soldier; Oh, the irony of being killed by a soldier with a name such as yours. Oh well. I'm sure that the fires of hell shall accept me as I am."

He spluttered for a moment, before lying motionless. John simply turned away from the body and without so much as looking back, walked towards the exit of the warehouse, allowing the fires of the battle to burn away.

"John, are you there?" Natalie had finally been able to reach him on the radio. John knely down to take the call.

"I'm here. Everything's been taken care of. What is it?"

"As soon as you exit the warehouse, you should have a clear path towards the Pillbox. I don't think there will be any issues with you coming under contact from the enemy."  
"Understood. I'm making my way outside now."  
"Ok. Good luck."

The battle was difficult, but John had survived. He prayed that he wouldn't have to do anything like that again in the mission.

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Next Chapter:

**Chapter 3: The Pillbox Stronghold**


	4. Chapter 3: The Pillbox Stronghold

Well, it's back. I FINALLY finished chapter 3. I added a little bit more than I originally set to, so this actually makes this chapter one of the longest in the story. In terms of the machinima, I reckon it probably takes this chapter about 10 - 15 minutes in length if the chapter itself is anything to go by.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Chapter 4 should be up soon, since that's already done and dusted and just requires posting here.

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**Chapter 3: The Pillbox Stronghold**

Static filled the Pillbox air, but other than that there was silence. It wasn't a comfortable silence though, as there was an air of tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife. The only thing that was piercing the silence and static however, was the occasional call from someone on the radio trying to get through to someone who didn't answer.

Footsteps gently echoed down the main corridor of the Pillbox. On either side of it were doorways leading into other rooms, and corridors that led outside. The footsteps made their way down the corridor, to far end where the leader of Cold Justice, Krait, was stood in front of crackling radio equipment. He had taken his beret off and looked flourished despite his neatly kept self.

A beautiful, young-looking woman stood in the radio-room doorway behind Krait. Wearing DPM combat trousers and army boots, her red bikini-top contrasted with the rest of her uniform. Anyone outside of Cold Justice would have thought that she was a joke, but her cold eyes set in the soft face told of her military personality. She watched Krait as he stared at the radio equipment – an expression of anxiety on his face.

"Is something wrong?"

Krait turned around and spotted her in the doorway.

"Huh? Oh, it's you Guilt. We've lost contact with that pyromaniac in the warehouse."  
"Flare Commando?"  
"Yes. There's been no word from him for the last hour."

The Guilt walked into the room and checked the transmission log.

"Have you sent someone to investigate?" She enquired, riffling through the papers.  
"I sent out a platoon not to long ago to check up on him."

The Guilt looked up from the transmission logs and straight towards Krait, an expression of concern on her face.

"Well on a similar note, I've just come to inform you that one of the mountaintop guards found one of other others suspiciously asleep, as if he'd been drugged. They're also missing a rifle and some other equipment."

Krait looked at her thoughtfully, then turned away from the radio equipment for the first time in almost an hour. He looked up at the ceiling as if trying to find the answers that he was looking for and sighed heavily.

"I see. I fear that the Soviet government has acted quicker than we had anticipated."  
"Should we move things ahead of schedule then?"

"No." Krait responded almost as soon as The Guilt had finished talking. "If we do, it would mean having to sacrifice some preparations. That is something that I am not willing to do. Get prepared just in case we do have intruders. It's always better to be safe, than sorry."

The Guilt nodded her head in compliance and moved towards the doorway to prepare herself as Krait had ordered.

"As you wish."

Just as she reached the doorway, Krait called out to her.

"One more thing." Said Krait.

The Guilt stopped and turned to face him.

"What is it?"  
"Is the experiment ready?"

The Guilt hesitated, as if she knew that the question was coming, but feared answering it. She swallowed hard, clearing her throat.

"It's hard to tell. It looks and acts convincing enough, but I'm not sure if it will be able to keep up the charade for long. Besides, I don't think we've thought about all the variables to programme into it."

Krait nodded.

"Very well. Tell the men at HQ to get him ready anyway. I'll be moving the microfilm within the hour."  
"Understood."

With that, The Guilt finally left Krait alone with the radios once again.

* * *

14:15 30th June, 1976

The breezes in the jungle were much cooler than those at the top of the cliffs. It was a nice reprieve for John who had faced a guy with a flamethrower not too long ago.

He was coming up to the Pillbox where the microfilm was supposedly being held. He had to get into a different mindset to infiltrate a bunker such as this. Upon reaching it he dropped down from the jungle foliage and lay down on a mound at the rear of the Pillbox.

The place was surprisingly quiet for somewhere that was holding something important. Using his binoculars he spotted two sentries on the outside – one was stood behind a wall, overlooking the jungle and the Pillbox, and the other was stood just outside a doorway. John suspected that more were inside. He wouldn't be able to inside without a uniform. He had to steal one.

Slowly, he made his way to the sentry overlooking the jungle. Stalking him, like a predator upon its prey each step as light and quiet. His MK-22 came up behind the sentry, who heard nothing and felt only a wave of dreariness come over him before he fell to the floor asleep.

John dragged his body to behind the boxes and began removing the sentry's clothes, and began slipping them onto himself. He stuffed his own clothing in to the pockets and webbing of his new uniform. It was a bit snug, but he wasn't going to be wearing it for long.

He walked over to the doorway that the other guard was stood in front and walked inside. The other guard clearly took no notice, as he seemed to be too busy sleeping. John walked down the corridor where another guard was stood. He marched right up to John and looked somewhat threatening.

"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded in Russian.

John froze, unsure of how he should tackle the situation.

"You're not supposed to leave your post until one of us relieves you!"

John decided to act on instinct. He punched the guy twice in the face and kicked him over. The sentry crumpled on to the ground, out cold. John dragged the unconscious man into a long corridor with lots of different doorways. He found a room nearby and hid him inside there, before making his way back into the corridor.

John checked all the rooms, but found nothing. He knew the microfilm had to be around here somewhere, but he couldn't see it at all. Even more suspicious was the fact that the three sentries he had knocked out seemed to be the only ones patrolling the area. It finally dawned on him that perhaps he was too late.

"Shit." He mumbled to himself. "I need to find out where it is."

He spotted another sentry come in through another exit and walk into a room at the end of the corridor. John followed him in. As soon as John entered the room, the sentry turned around to face him. John had already pulled out his M1911 and was aiming it directly at the guy's head.

"Freeze!" John whispered harshly. "Drop your weapon!"

The sentry stared at John, refusing the order stubbornly. John's grip tightened on the trigger, showing the guard that he meant business.

"Now!" He growled through clenched teeth.  
"Alright!" The sentry realised his situation and dropped the AKM to the floor. "Don't pull the trigger."

John moved forward cautiously, eyes pinned on the sentry at all times. He quickly kicked the assault rifle to one side and stepped back to keep his distance from the sentry.

"Where's the microfilm?" John demanded.  
"The what?"

The sentry was trying to play the fool, but it wasn't working on John. He knew that something had happened to it, and was going to get the answers he wanted. Psychological battles were necessary to obtain information.

"Look, I know it was here earlier smartass. If you don't tell me, I'll just get one of the other guys to tell me."

Realising that his options were quite limited, the sentry gave a look of disapproval of John before he answered.

"They moved the microfilm."  
"Where to? When?"  
"It was moved from this facility about two hours ago, to a small town nearby. No one lives there anymore, so we use it as a base of operations."  
"How come nobody lives there?"  
"Would you live there if it was war-torn and near a bunch of nuclear testing sites?"

John began feeling alarmed. If this was true, then it was possible that these terrorists had nuclear capabilities. He had to gleam as much information as possible from the guy.

"Are you telling me that there are nuclear weapons near your headquarters?"  
"No. Not anymore. They abandoned the testing in the late sixties, but nobody has moved back into the area through fear of radiation. They had nothing to worry about though. The place is clean, and all of the nuclear weaponry was moved."

There was slight relief for John – he didn't need to worry about any sort of a nuclear attack. However, the microfilm was obviously still important enough for them to be guarding it at their base of operations and he had to get it back. John felt that time was of the essence now.

"Ok, turn around."

Hesitantly, the sentry obeyed John and faced the wall opposite. Expecting anything, the sentry stared at a single crack whilst all of his plans of escape swirled around in his head. He didn't have long to contemplate it though, as a dark cloud of fatigue descended over him.

John put away his MK-22 tranquilliser gun. Killing the guy wouldn't have helped his situation. At least now he's have some time to get some distance before the other sentries could get any information out of him. He knelt down against the wall and called his support.

"Zero, this is HOUND. Over."

The familiar voice of Major Braxton was his reply.

"HOUND this is Zero, have you found the microfilm?"  
"Negative. According to one of the guards they moved it about two hours ago."  
"Do you know where they moved it to?"  
"Well the guy said that they moved it back to their base of operations which was set up in a nearby town. I didn't get a name though. Any idea Natalie?"

There was a slight pause before she answered.

"I've got it. Raikovnya. It's a small town about fifteen kilometres to the West of your location. It was near a testing area for nuclear weapons in the late sixties according to the information I have here, but I don't think that you have to worry about the radiation now, especially since Cold Justice are operating from there."

The next location had been verified. Braxton made it official an order.

"Ok then, you know what to do. Get there as soon as possible and retrieve the microfilm."  
"Understood. Out."

John stepped out into the corridor and started to make his way outside. It was strangely quiet in the Pillbox, which made John slightly anxious. True, the microfilm had been moved from the area so there was no need to keep a heavy guard, but surely they must have left more than the four guards he'd seen. Perhaps they had all left when the microfilm was moved, and these guys were simply a distraction to give the impression that something was still here.

If that was the case, John realised that he needed to hurry. Time was ticking, and if the microfilm was as important as the briefing had suggested, then he had to find it fast.

* * *

Please R&R, since only one person has done so (thanks AngelaSky!), and I'm really looking for feedback on the story to see whether my machinima idea is really worth it (although it's in produciton anyway).


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